Thirty Minutes
by Glue Project
Summary: HPDM Thirty minutes and a smattering of knowledge was all that it took to change the world from what he knew. Thrity minutes was all it took to destroy the wizarding world. And Thirty minutes was all it took to keep it from falling apart in the first plac
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I wish I owned these boys.

A/N: God, it's been awhile, hasn't it? I know it's been awhile since I actually typed anything, that's for sure. My computer says that I typed this up aroudn the Third of December 2005. So I guess that it's not really _that_ old, but...still kinda feels like it. I judge that the story is about halfway finished. I have points A and B figured out, but not the route on how to get there, nor the pitstops. And this is only the prologue.

And last but not least, this fic was inspired by the TATU song '30 Minutes' which I heard the first time as the background mucis to a SetoXJou amv. The summery is part of the subject line that I found on the file. Odd, ne?

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A set of four pops went unheard.

Jaded eyes looked across the field where the battle raged. The eyes just swept over the unfamiliar faces, not registering who was who, nor which side they had affiliated themselves with. Death Eaters no longer wore masks as they affected their sight and since their robes were in short demand as well many had forgone that ritual long ago, making it easy for them to blend in with those against them. A woman stood out that he didn't recognize, looking sadly at him.

But he didn't see this. All he saw was the face at the other side of the field, glowing red eyes mocking him from across the distance. He started walking towards the monster at the other side of the battle.

For a second, he thought that the lips had contorted to form four syllables, but the moment passed and he was unsure.

As soon as they noticed him walking calmly amongst all the fighting, Death Eater and Auror alike just froze. They intuitively knew that this was the Last Battle, the one spoke of in Trelawney's third and final prophecy. She had been killed shortly after that.

They parted like waves before him as he made his way to the smirking Dark Lord but his cool, mint-colored eyes stayed static only on him.

The Dark Lord's smirk deepened as a lone voice from the crowd on one of the parted sides let out a loud, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A shocked look overcame the thin features of the young man as he turned to face the spell, eyes locking with the Death Eater that had thrown it.

Before it hit on green wings, he swiveled back to Voldemort, eyes narrowed.

Even as the spell hit, there was still enough soul in him to whisper, "_Bastard._"

Death Eater and Auror inwardly trembled at the sight of the Dark Lord cackling over the final defeat of Harry Potter, even as Severus Snape stood, staring transfixed at the smoking tip of his wand.

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Well, I guess I'll see you all next Sunday with the next installement, ne? Review please! I have to write the path between A and B!

(glomps)

Glue


	2. Chapter One

_Disclaimer: _I work at McDonalds.

A/N: I had forgotten about posting this. nn; I have quite a bit of it written too... XD

_Chapter One _

_"Might as well get yer uniform." A pause. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."_

He dimly wondered what was going on. Where was Voldemort? Was he in the infirmary again? Was the battle over?

Did they win?

He felt like he was hovering in blankness yet, so he supposed that was because of the effects of some potion or another.

_"Hogwarts, dear? Got the lot in here--another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."_

_Now,_ Harry started to take notice, the cobwebs that polluted his mind falling away and leaving the scene clear for him to see his body moving towards the back room of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Inwardly, he was startled to see a young Malfoy standing on a stool as some witch or other pinned at the bottom of his robes.

"Hello. Hogwarts, too?"

Harry could see the small signs of constant terror on the boy. After a second, he realized that the other was still waiting for a response.

He simply let out a bored, "Yes."

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." Harry could see the look of well hidden terror increase at the mention of his father. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry wanted to snort and tell him that he hardly thought that a boy of eleven could _bully_ a Death Eater into doing something, short of the Dark Lord doing the bullying, of course.

Harry remembered these events just well. He suspected that he was in fact in the infirmary and was just having a dream. He'd had plenty of this sort before.

"Have_you_ got your own broom?"

Deciding to make the conversation more interesting this time around, he said, "Not yet, but I'm thinking about buying a Nimbus Two Thousand."

An approving look came over the blond's face before a dubious expression settled over it. "_You're _thinking of buying one?"

Just the way that he said it told Harry that it wasn't supposed to be a jab at either him nor his family, but a curiosity of the fact that he had 'left out' his family in the decision. "Yes." With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he accented the single word, "Orphan."

A quizzical look crossed Malfoy's face. Harry could see his eyes darting from him, to what his robes were being made of, then back to Harry's face. Hesitantly, he said, "You're family must have left you money then...?"

Harry was starting to wish that this was the way their first encounter had actually gone. There was almost a concerned expression on Malfoy's face.

"Well--ow!" He looked down at the witch that was still sticking pins in the bottom of his robes. She gave him a quick apology for hitting him with them. "It's okay." He turned back to Malfoy. "Well enough to keep me set for awhile. A broom will be the only thing that I'm going to splurge on. I might not even get it for awhile just to save."

Yes, that _definitely_ was a look of empathy on the Malfoy's face. "If you're going to wait a bit, you might as well wait until next year." Looking around, he said in highly above a whisper, "Father heard that they're going to release the Two Thousand and One next year."

Harry was somewhat shocked that Malfoy was telling him this. He rather liked this dream-Malfoy. He was going to have to find out what they had given him in the infirmary.

Harry smiled. "I might. Thanks. In any case, that would make the Two Thousand's cheaper. Plus we can't have brooms..." He smirked.

Malfoy looked taken aback by the smirk. He shook his head. "What house do you think you're going to be in?"

He let a sad smile contort his face. "My mother and father were both in Gryffindor." He shrugged and adverted his eyes, dimly noting that the two witches were indicating for them to sit in the chairs at the one side of the room while they finished up. "I suppose I could go either way, Slytherin or Gryffindor, though."

Once sitting, Malfoy leaned close so that his words couldn't be overheard. "Choose Gryffindor, if you're given the chance," he hissed. "I would almost give anything to get out of Slytherin."

Harry gave him an odd look and leaned close so his words wouldn't be overheard either. "But we haven't even been Sorted yet... what makes you think that you'll get sorted into Slytherin?"

He was suddenly aware that the boy in front of him was now a clear copy of the young man that had stood in front of Albus Dumbledore during their sixth year, afraid and fearing for his family.

"I'll be in Slytherin... all my family has been." He scowled at the ground. "Which means that I'll be groomed into being--" Draco suddenly stopped, as if just realizing that he had spouted off enough for someone to take the matter to his father.

After a few moments, Harry fidgeted minutely. "Are you serious about wanting to get into any other house other that Slytherin?" His hand had strayed into his pocket, searching for any item that could be inside them. His fingers latched around a bronze knut.

Malfoy nodded his head.

"Would you go as far as running away from home?"

Harry could practically see the thoughts chasing themselves around the blond's head. He himself knew that the blond's childhood had been even worse than his own. He was curious as to what the other would say.

Finally, Malfoy said, albeit shakily, "Yes." He drew a sharp breath. "As long as I could get away from where I am now."

Harry knew that also meant the path in life he was expected to follow.

Harry closed his eyes, concentrating on the knut in his left hand, tying it in with the location of Four, Privet Drive, to the littlest bedroom, timed for tomorrow.

When he opened his eyes, he could see that Draco, being so close to him, had sensed the upswing of magic in him. A frightened look had crossed his face. "What was _that?_"

Harry gave a smile and drew the knut out of his pocket. "_That_ was me making this into a Portkey." Malfoy looked floored. "This, " Harry waved the knut, "Is set to take you where I currently live at four tomorrow. All you need to do is have this in your pocket. If you wish to activate it earlier, just bite it."

Malfoy looked afraid to take it, but still did. His fingers shook slightly as they closed around the small object.

He looked almost giddy after he put it into his pocket. "By the way, my name's Draco Malfoy."

Harry pleasantly noticed the difference in this introduction that the first real one they had on the train. Malfoy held out his hand.

He stood, remembering that Hagrid would be bringing them ice cream soon. Grabbing the blond's hand, he grinned. "And my name's Harry Potter."

Grinning as he paid for his robes, he started to whistle as he exited the shop to meet Hagrid.

He wished that this was how it had gone in real life. They both would have gained very valuable allies early on.

And all that was different, really, was that Harry had gone off on a tangent about a broom.

As he greeted Hagrid, he inwardly snickered about 'boy's and their toys'.

He didn't see the smile on the one witches face at his obvious mirth.

---

Harry lay on his bed at Four, Privet Drive, wondering when he was going to wake up from this dream. He dreaded it, really. He didn't want to know how many more had died in the last battle, or what had happened to Snape.

He knew that Snape had been under the Impervious when he had cast that spell, it was the only explanation. Harry knew him well enough that he didn't even doubt it.

Still pondering what would happen when he awoke back at the infirmary, his eyelids fluttered closed over almost emerald eyes.

TBC


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer : I still work at McDonalds.

Chapter Two

Emerald eyes blinked up at the cracked ceiling overhead, disoriented for a moment before the events from the day before crashed upon him. He sat up in the lumpy bed, eyebrows furrowed.

They must have been giving him some pretty strong stuff then. He shrugged and his stomach decided that it was hungry.

Absently, he made his way to the closet of Dudley's old clothes and after he was dressed, wrinkled his nose at them.

He passed his wand over himself, automatically cloaking his magical signal so that it wouldn't be detected.

Dimly, he let the random thought that this dream was more sane than most of the ones he had under potion-induced unconsciousness.

Walking into the kitchen in his now well fitting clothes, he sat himself at the table and helped himself to the breakfast fare out before him.

Hours later, Harry was laying down on the bed, arms pillowing his head.

He wondered if Malfoy was going to show.

He knew the other had acted odd, but he could also read the signs of terror that were deeply marked on the other. He hadn't had that insight the first time he had judged the boy.

Even if this was only a dream, he wasn't going to fail Draco. If he didn't show up in fifteen minutes, he was going to go over to the Malfoy Manor and steal him from there.

After all, if you knew that your worse enemy was going to be brutally beaten within a few short days, and much worse in the coming years, wouldn't you still try to save them? Or was Harry just being a naive Gryffindor again?

After a few moments of silence, Harry felt the wards around the house shift. It wouldn't have been anything anyone passing would have noticed, but Harry had trained himself to notice _any_ change in the wards around his unfortunate sanctuary.

Harry grinned, recognizing the magic signatures as his own Portkey activated--he looked to the clock on the wall--ten minutes early.

Keeping his pose nonchalant on the bed, he watched with interest as the Malfoy heir fell to his bedroom floor in a slightly bloodied heap, a single suitcase bumping into his thigh.

Harry was over at his side immediately, waving his wand over the other boy and throwing several well-learned diagnosis spells over him to access the damage to his young frame.

He evidently didn't see the terror brought on by the fact that his wand was in constant motion, sparks lighting angrily from the end of it, a stream of nonsense words ground out from thin lips. Nor did he see the fear brought on by the look of determination that changed his eyes from a warm emerald to a cool mint green.

It was only after the eyes lit again with life and Harry had sat back on his heels that Draco noticed that the other had healed him instead of hurt him.

Shakily, Draco ran a hand down his chest, almost as if to make sure that it was still there and in one piece. "Th-thanks," he stuttered, still a bit shaken.

Harry just gave a kind grin to him. "Sure. Anytime." He helped him to sit on the bed.

Draco then looked at Harry a bit warily. "Are you really Harry Potter?"

Harry's kind grin morphed into a smirk. With his left hand, he reached up and snagged the fringe of hair away from his forehead, leaving his scar bare. Draco gave a sharp intake of breath.

"But he was sent to some muggles!"

Harry let his hand fall, one eyebrow raising. He didn't know that the boy had known that much about his back story. "Yes, I was."

"But," his thoughts raced in his mind, struggling to find out how best to express themselves. "You used magic! You can't use magic in a muggle home... the Ministry'll find out!"

Harry's mouth then took on a small, sad smile. "It's amazing what you'll figure out how to do when you need it." He got a tilt to the head from Draco in question. "Let's just say that if someone asks me if I've lived under a rock for years, I'd be able to reply, 'No, it was a staircase'."

The look in Draco's eyes told him that the blond understood. Too well.

Harry dimly wondered when Malfoy had become Draco.

Getting up from the bed, he started walking to the door. "Come on. We have to eat before we leave."

"But I just got here..."

Harry's hand was on the door as he looked back. "Yes, but this is a safe place for _me_ to be. This is where I'm expected to be." The smirk was back, and a slight, shifting mint color entered his eyes, making them glimmer. "I'm going to take you to were_neither_ of us are expected to be, and thus a safe place for us both."

Draco seemed to understand this nonsense logic. Hesitantly, he followed Harry downstairs.

They both walked calmly into the kitchen, and Harry put on his innocent facade for his aunt. She had already started supper (being as it was already five after four) and was slowly stirring something on the stove. With a calm flick of Harry's wrist, the flame under the pot went out. She didn't notice.

Finished stirring, Petunia placed her spoon on the stove and capped off her creation with a lid. Turning around, she was surprised to see her nephew and a similarly thin blond boy.

Before she had time to start the stuttering 'Who' and 'What' game, Harry was already speaking. "Hello Aunt Petunia. I just wanted you to meet my friend here. He's going to be going to _my_ school too this year. We would like something to eat."

She seemed flabbergasted before she started to puff up in rage. "Why you little freak! Brining others like you into this house! After all we've done for--"

She stopped, her words lost in a silencing spell. Harry had sat down in a chair by the table by this time. Idly studying his wand, he turned cool eyes to her. Dully, he said, "I figured just as much. So you won't feed us then?" At her frantic shake of the head, he flicked his wand in the direction of the cupboard and it opened, letting a loaf of bread and some peanut butter float over to them. A second, similar flick had two perfect sandwiches lying on the table and the bread and peanut butter floating back to their places.

Taking a bite out of his sandwich, he spoke to her. "We won't be here too long." After a couple of minutes of silence, he brushed an imaginary wrinkle out of his shirt. "Although it will be amusing at how you explain my disappearance to Dumbledore." With another flick of his wrist, he let up the silencing spell on her.

Expecting a harsh lashing of vicious words, he was quite surprised to see her throughly shocked expression. "You're...you're actually leaving then?"

Harry straightened in his chair, thankful that Draco was keeping quiet. "Yes."

Petunia bit her lip, her eyes dashing about the small space. "But what about...?" She looked as if she didn't know how to bring up the topic of the wards.

"The blood protection charms will continue to work as long as I visit this place once a year." He paused, considering. He knew that if he never came back, the wards would fall and wouldn't continue to protect the Dursley's. "For your sake, I'll visit, if only to keep the wards working."

He noticed that she looked grateful. _Bitch._

Draco gave him a subtle nudge, showing him that he was done with his own sandwich. Harry stood, motioning for Draco to do the same.

Making their way out of the room, Harry turned slightly and said, "Be seeing you," right before they went back to his room.

---

Both stood in the middle of the empty room, waiting while Harry thought of the last of everything in their little plan to get away.

Pacing, he described his plan to the pale haired boy that sat on his bed, transfixed and watching the rare thing that was playing out in front of him.

Dimly, Draco noticed that _this_ was the Boy-Who-Lived. _This_ was a person that would be a terrible attribute to whichever side he would join, if there ever was a war again.

And that _this_ was a boy that was worried about him as a person, and not the Malfoy heir.

He suddenly felt a thread of fear for whoever would ever get in the way of the beautiful creature that was pacing with mint green eyes. It passed almost as quickly as the feeling that _he_ should be at the receiving end of that frosted gaze.

"We most certainly cannot remain here. I know of a place that we _could_ live, but first I have to make it habitable." Harry paused for just a second before he continued and gave a little shake of his index finger. "Actually two, though the preferable choice is basically out."

Draco wanted to ask why he mentioned it then but was too transfixed by Harry's pacing to say anything.

"Either way, we only have to stay hidden for a month."

Draco snapped out of his daze at that. "What?"

Harry blinked, turning to him. "We're going to Hogwarts. Did you think we were going to skip that?" He guessed that's what the other thought, if the look on the blond's face was anything to go by.

"I...I didn't bring any of my school things. Only my wand..."

Harry waved that away. "I can duplicate them for you. Since you already bought the books already and have now 'lost' them, it's perfectly legal." He paused with a questioning look on his face. "What's in your suitcase then?"

Draco fidgeted before he padded over to the suitcase that was still lying on the floor. Opening it, he scuttled backwards to warily see Harry's reaction.

For just a second later, the head of an all-too-familiar house elf popped out of it, thin hands clutching a similarly familiar diary.

Harry sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Fair enough." He made another lap before shaking his finger again. "Actually, that makes this easier."

He knew from the experiences in his world that Dobby was actually bound to Draco, and not Malfoy Senior. As always, he was loyal to a fault, and had played the scheme that Draco had set up down to the letter.

Of course, Draco had been the one to send Dobby to Harry, not only giving Harry warning, but also managing to get the odd house elf away from his sadistic father.

Harry sighed, not being able to make up his mind on where they were going to go. Turning to Draco, he drew a sickle out of his pocket. "Heads stands for Hollow and Tails is for Place." He expertly flipped it and caught it again, slapping it down again on his forearm. With his hand still covering the outcome, he looked to Draco. "Your call."

Draco blinked. "Eh...tails?"

Harry's hand lifted. "Heads. Godric's Hollow it is."

---

Harry lost himself in the task of fixing up his parents house over the next week. Dobby had aided him in most of the tasks and had seemed to bond with him as well. Harry didn't put too much thought in it however.

All of his thoughts were centered on not failing his house mate and the house elf, while wondering what they were giving him in the infirmary.

After awhile, his mind stopped pondering the question.

And late at night, outside his window, Draco could have sworn to seeing a miniature stag. One of its antlers were impressive but the other side was broken almost to the stump.

As the days raced towards the first of September, both boys and house elf didn't really take it into consideration that their time of easy peace was soon to end. They kept track of the days, but only so that they didn't miss Hogwarts.

Quietly, Harry made sure to pack the diary in his trunk so that Draco didn't see.

Dobby just nodded in the background.

---

Nearly over an hour early, both boys stood at the station, looking around as if it was their first time there.

Harry nearly had to hit himself in the head for the thought. But it _was_ Draco's first time in a place so... _muggle._

They had left Dobby behind at Godric's Hollow, at least for the time being. The house still wasn't up to tiptop shape and Dobby was going to do his best to improve on the strengthening spells that Harry had put on the rotting wood and to enact his own special brand of magic on the slowly dying house.

Harry gently tugged the currently-brunet boy along with him to the barrier between the platforms nine and ten.

Draco had originally put up a fuss at having to change his hair color, but Harry had cited that there weren't that many people with hair _that_ shade of blond, and that keeping it in that state could be a beacon for trouble.

Hedwig rested on Harry's shoulder, seemingly not bothered as she dipped in time with the short boy's stride. Both boys wore tan pants and a black shirt with a navy book bag on their backs.

Plain. Common.

Easy to hide and not arouse questions.

Both Harry and Draco slid into the barrier that made up Platform 9¾ without trouble and made their way calmly to the train.

Securing the last compartment in the empty train was easy and they settled down for just a bit. With a flick of his hand, Harry changed Draco's hair back to it's original blond. His mouth tilted into a smile as he watched his counterpart check to make sure that his hair was indeed back to its normal luster.

Draco crossed his arms as he looked over to Harry. After pouting for a second, he sighed. "I'm going to go and see if any of my friends are on the train yet." A pause. "Okay, Harry?"

Harry gave a minute grin, but it was enough.

While Draco was gone, Harry just gazed outside the window as the Platform came to life with the hustle of getting students off to Hogwarts for the new year. The smile faded on his face as he actually took in the faces that he was looking at.

That one... he would be decapitated in later years. The girl next to him? Brutally murdered with her own wand, and not by _Avada Kedavra._

His body went numb as he recalled her corpse, the wand sticking out the side of her temple. He would never forget the look of agony on her face, frozen in time.

A fire spell had killed her.

Her body hadn't been bu--

"Anyone sitting here?" Slight pause. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry looked up, cursing himself for not noticing that the whistle had blown and that he was now gazing at rushing houses instead of students.

Swallowing, Harry managed to smile at the eleven-year-old Ron, trying not to place him in the same category as the twenty-something year old Deatheater Weasley that had been jealous and that Harry had to kill himself.

"You can sit there. I don't know when," _if,_ "my friend is coming back but then that still leaves a lot of room in the car, doesn't it?"

The red-head gave a stellar smile. "Thanks. My names Ron Weasley."

Harry felt his stomach drop a bit in unease. "Welcome. I'm Harry."

Ron frowned slightly at the lack of last name, but thankfully didn't make a deal out of it.

They chatted for a bit, making easy and light conversation when Draco entered the compartment again. The blond had sighed as he shut the sliding door behind him, eyes closed. When he looked up, Harry could see the sneer forming at the sight of the red-haired boy in the compartment with his Harry.

Harry just leveled a look at him mixed with a slight frown and the sneer melted away and a small grimace took its place. Plopping down next to Harry, Draco gave a nod and said, "Morning, Weasley."

Ron's mouth dropped open slightly in shock. In answer to this, Draco grimaced again and pointed to his own blond hair. "It's the red hair."

Harry favored him with one of his rare smiles at swallowing back the barb that they both knew had been at the very tip of the blond's tounge.

Scooting just a little closer to Harry, he spoke again. "I'm Draco."

Ron did really frown this time but didn't bring it up. After all, it wasn't very often that he had friends to himself.

Harry spent the next few minutes to cultivate Draco out of his little pure-blooded shell, and in that time, Ron sat and watched them. Feeling jealous for only a mere fraction of a second, it passed entirely too quickly for him to analyze it.

It completely went out of his mind that when he had entered the compartment, Harry's eyes were a frosty mint.

Around noon, a fourth joined them, his fat face practically creased in his fear.

Harry was alert in an instant, eyes hardening as he took in the new arrivals appearance.

"Well hullo Dudley," Harry said coolly. "What's a pig like you doing here?"

Dudley's suddenly wider eyes locked on Harry and he slid down the door of the compartment in obvious relief. "Harry, thank god! There's... nng... on the train!" His pudgy hands twitched in the air, as if trying to find a proper word.

Draco arched a perfect eyebrow. "_They_ are called _witches_ and _wizards_ you dolt."

Dudley visibly twitched at the words and shrunk into the door as much as his large frame would allow.

Ron seemed to be shocked speechless.

Resting his head on his palm, Harry returned his cool gaze to his cousin. "So why are you here, Dudley?"

Dudley started to shake as his eyes took on an accusing light. His hand dug for the letter in his pocket even as he muttered, "You go me sick..."

Draco, being closer to the heavier blond, passed the letter to Harry.

Recognizing his uncles handwriting on the outside of the paper, Harry frowned.

_Freak-_

_Due to your peculiar abnormalities, you have gotten Dudley infected with this nonsense. _

_He is now your charge, and neither of you are to ever come back again._

_-Vernon._

Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked back to Dudley. "Is this true?" He waved the letter.

Dudley grimaced and nodded, handing over another letter, this one easily recognizable as being from Hogwarts.

As Dudley spoke, Harry cast a few charms on it wandlessly to make sure it had not been tampered with.

"We were coming to London anyway to... and while we were driving here, an owl flew right into the open car window. Mum got really quiet after they stopped denying that it was for me. Kept saying the letter was just a stragglier for you, actually..." He shuddered. "Dad just... pulled here and dropped me off with a letter for the Freak." He shuddered again.

Leaning back comfortably and closing his eyes, Harry's next words were, "Saa, he finally called you one too, ne?"

TBC

Please review?


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: ...I am poor. And looking forward to Ohayocon. Don't sue. You'll only get anime merchandise. And cosplay kit.

_Chapter Three_

McGonagall was briefing them on the Houses now. Harry had turned her out, instead listening to what was going on around him.

About three paces away, he could hear Goyle muttering something about..._Great Expectations?_ A second later he heard the name Charles Dickenson, so he supposed that he hadn't been mistaken.

And the most disturbing part was that he and Crabbe were arguing over if _Oliver Twist_ or _Great Expectations _were better.

"Mr. Potter, are you listening?"

Slickly coming out of his trance, he turned his eyes to her. "Yes, Professor, I was."

"Then will you please tell me what I just said?"

Harry took a deep breath, trying his best to ignore the whispers that had broken out at the mention of his name. Opening his green eyes, he fixed her with a _look_ before proceeding to repeat whatever nonsense she had just said. Ver batum.

And in truth, he had no idea what he was saying. He didn't care either.

A few minutes later, when all the first years were entering the great hall, Draco sidled up to Harry. Dudley was soon to follow, fitted in one of Harry's robes that had to be transfigured first. The other two had no clue what was about to happen and stuck close to Harry's sides.

_Just like later._

Harry's eyes flickered around the Hall--it was the same as it had always been, floating candles soaring high overhead while the enchanted ceiling showed the sky outside. He remembered the day that it had rained re-

"Dursley, Dudley!"

And with that, Harry's attention snapped back to the sorting and his cousin as his fat arse tottled up to the poor three-legged stool. The stool sagged under his immense weight for a second before Harry's trained eyes caught sight of a strengthening spell aimed at the thing by one of the professors. Harry guessed that it was Snape. It had the same cynical air.

The Hat tilted on Dudley's head, tip flopping this way and that before--

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry let an eyebrow raise.

Draco stuck tighter to Harry's side, if that was possible to do without actually meshing into Harry.

Harry zoned out again until he heard a "RAVENCLAW!" where he should not have.

After "Crabbe, Vincent!"

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Goyle, Gregory!" was followed by "RAVENCLAW!" as well.

The brunet turned to Draco and let an eyebrow raise. The other boy just gave a twitchy smirk and whispered, "Who did you think my friends were?"

And then it was Draco's turn.

Harry held his breath, waiting, it just seemed to take _sooo_ long, and then--

"GRYFFINDOR!"

--he could let out his breath.

He basked in the little bit of warmth that filled him at knowing that the other boy had a chance.

_Even if it was in Harry's hallucinationated dreams..._

"Potter, Harry!"

Walking up to the Hat without a single outward tremor, he sat on the stool, felt the hat plop onto his head, and waited for the Hat to start probing into his mind.

_Hm. Snape _did_ cast that charm on the stool..._

He felt the probing, gentle tendrils almost as soon as the thought had finished.

"Ah, Mister Potter--"

Harry almost smiled at the Hat's sudden silence. The shock was audible.

"Well...this is..."

_Unbelievable? A side effect of a really good pain potion? Take you pick and pick your poison._

Harry was willing to guess that the Hat, if it could have, would have just blinked in reply to that.

After a few moments, it continued. "You do realize that we're not in a dream? Anyways, we better get on with it..." A deeper probe, still gentle, but digging to longer forgotten memories. "Well, we'll go with--"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry shut down his higher thinking processes and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

Harry didn't even notice as "Zabini, Blaise!" was made the last Gryffindor of the year.

---

After the feast and all the activities following it, they were finally up in Gryffindor tower. Harry had to hold himself back from going the quickest ways and taking shortcuts that only the Weasley twins would know. A quick look in their direction and he could tell that they were thinking the same thing, although they were snickering as they passed each shortcut.

Once in their dorm, all seven boys looked around the somewhat crampt room and saw the seven four-poster beds, each with their trunks at the end. Harry wanted to snort at the fact that even though they had two more people this time, they still had the same amount of floorspace.

He was jolted out of this line of thinking at the small sound of distaste that Draco gave beside him. He was fingering the red drapes on his featherdown bed, his nose scrunched up just slightly. "It's so...bright..."

Harry rolled his eyes and with a simple flick of his wrist the drapes had become green with and on the inside, where no one could see, there were silver strands that were wrapped around the posts.

All the other boys looked at Harry with a flabbergasted look on their faces. Draco just looked pleased.

After that, exhaustion seemed to take hold and everyone got ready for bed. Draco discreetly took a pair of pajamas out of Harry's trunk since his was actually empty.

When Harry climbed into bed a little while later, he cast a few Silencing spells around it after he drew the curtains shut. Snuggling down into the soft down comforters, he let the block on his mind go.

_"You do realize that we're not in a dream?"_

Those words looped in his mind, whispering poison and snaring hope.

Was it possible?

_You do realize that we're not in a dream? _

_He looked down at the witch that was still sticking pins in the bottom of his robes. She gave him a quick apology for hitting him with them._

His eyes opened wide.

_Snape_ had thrown _Avada Kedavra_ at him, not Voldemort. _Snape_ had been under _Impero_. What if, since he hadn't actually died 'at the hands of the other', it had sent him back in time?

He had to talk to the Hat again.

---

Of all his years at Hogwarts, Albus had not seen one thing--Fawkes wearing the Sorting Hat, while the Hat itself conversed with Severus Snape.

That one thing, though, was currently, undeniably, happening in his office right now.

Albus gave a tiny shake of his head to dispel the illusion.

It was still there.

Sighing and stepping further into his office, Albus forced the twinkle to light in his eyes as he faced--them?

He would worry about if the Hat would classify as a him or she later.

"Ah, what an unusual surprise! What do I owe this visit to, Severus?"

Snape scowled further than his normally dour face allowed. "To _your_ bloody pigeon and _your_ bloody top hat.

The rip at the brim of the Hat contorted, and Fawkes let out a trill of laughter.

"Actually," the Hat spoke, "Severus was on pickup duty, and I wouldn't let him put me away."

Albus seemed more interested after that. "Oh? And why not?"

"Because I wish to ask, if I may, to talk to a specific student again. There were many...fascinating thoughts inside that head that I wish to follow further."

Snape had evidently not heard this before. "You can't resort anyone!"

"Saa, but I don't plan to. I didn't get to talk to the student much and...well, lets just say that I was intrigued."

---

TBC

Please review? Please? (puppy eyes) I'm running out of prewritten stuff. Seriously. Feed the muse?


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